A Night Beneath the Musketeers
by Avalon Medieval
Summary: The Musketeers enjoy a night with some sultry tavern wenches…Nothing but smut.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Pick a Musketeer**

**Notes:**

_**This fanfic was inspired by a dream I had. I matched the women as best as I could to my dream. Sexual escapades range from tender to rough to downright vulgarity.**_

_**WARNING: I wrote some pretty vulgar things, so if sex like this offends you, skip this fic!**_

"Welcome gentlemen!" Matron Cleo greeted her favorite Musketeers as they towed out chairs from behind a crude wooden table and sat. They returned the greeting adding their drink order. The Matron nodded and swirled through the crowded tavern in search of her new serving girl, Felicity. She found the young woman fanning at a cloud of smoke and gasping for air.

"Come child, the Musketeers I told you about are here. Tonight is your night!"

The sixteen year old serving girl nodded obediently, obviously grateful for the job Matron Cleo bestowed upon her. She trailed at the Matron's skirt tail until she dived into an inconspicuous corner tugging Felicity with her. The older woman cupped the younger one's chin and gazed into her eyes and asked, "Are you sure you are ready to do this? It is such a crucial step in a girl's life and once it is gone, you can never get it back."

Felicity tried to conceal her anguished reflection as best as she could. _No, she was not at all sure_. "Yes, Mademoiselle. This is something I must do whether I am ready or not."

The Matron's normally cold eyes softened. She had been just like Felicity once, naive and innocent, but that was before she was forced to greet the real world. The world could be a terribly harsh place on a young woman on her own and she had found this out the hard way. She swallowed hard, pitying the pristine natural beauty before her. The innocence shimmering in her eyes would be but a sorrowful memory come dawn, replaced with sensibility and bitterness. The Matron blinked and when she opened her lids again, the vitriolic cold had returned.

Having to lean down as Felicity was much shorter than her, she placed her arm around the girl's shoulders and pointed. "The burly dark one is Porthos and he belongs to Marigold for only she can salt his beastly appetite. A little thing like you would not want him anyways."

Felicity nodded, watching the big man tug saucy Marigold, a sleazy ex-pirate wench, into his lap. He whispered something in her ear, his lips curled north. She howled and he roared with laughter. It was obviously some lewd joke. The couple seemed to have been made for one another, both tawdry and loutish. Marigold could have him. He wasn't Felicity's type. Not that the inexperienced girl really had a type. She had never even been kissed. She grew up in the countryside as a plow girl and life as a farmer did not grant time to squander.

"The tall slender one with the baby face is D'artagnan. He is the one I told you about. He bears a kind heart and will be very gentle with you."

"You also said he is in love with Celine."

"Oh yes, he desperately is, but Celine won't mind sharing him with you. It is not like she returns his sentiment. He tips well and money is all that matters to Celine."

"She is lucky to have one such as he to care for her. She should marry him and escape this hellish life."

The Matron took on a scolding tone. "This hellish life keeps us warm at night and food in our bellies, and will ultimately be your mother's only hope."

Felicity bit her lip. The matron was right. After her father died, she and her mother and her child siblings refuge to Paris where her mother grew carcinogenic ill with sickness of the lungs. If not for her employment at the tavern, they would be beggars on the streets. "I am so sorry. I did not mean it. I am very grateful to you and all you have done for me."

The Matron patted Felicity on her head, using body language to express her genuine affection. She sincerely liked Felicity. She bore a rare beauty and voluptuous curves that could even make a priest blush; a blessing that would earn her lots of money in the future.

"The other one I told you about is Aramis and he is the handsome bloke with the scruffy face. He had tender hands like D'artagnan. He is a charming seducer and extremely debaucheries. Sex is art to him and he is a master artist. He can make a woman cream for hours!"

"He looks like he would be nice, but I have been warned to stay away from him."

"And why is that?" The Matron narrowed her eyes. She was the only one to set rules in the tavern.

"Because Lily is in love with him." Felicity beamed honorably. Lily, whom the Matron snatched out of an orphanage, was the only harlot there that had truly befriended her.

"Oh, honey, every woman is in love with Aramis and he in love with them, but he will never settle with just one. He claims if he did all the others would be jealous."

"I do not want to hurt Lily. She sincerely cares for that man."

"Lily is hurting herself for loving a whoremonger like Aramis. You select him or D'artagnan for your own good. In this life you have to look out for number one. You can not consider others as they will not consider you. If Lily was in your shoes, she would walk the same path. She understands. Now come on, let me introduce you to them."

"But wait, what about the last one? The one dressed in black. He is most handsome in a dark way."

"Oh no, dear, you steer clear of that one. He is Athos and while he is the noblest of all, he bears a black heart."

Felicity cocked her head, not understanding. "What do you mean black heart?"

"Athos has a dark past. He often drinks alone and is quite moody. While the others prowl and play, he usually drinks himself mad in a corner, daring anyone to venture near him. Everyone knows when he is in one of his moods to just leave him be. He is very dangerous. Very seldom does he select a wench for the night and when he does, well, all I can say he is not for you. You could not handle him. You set your eyes on Aramis or D'artagnan and stay the hell away from Athos."

Felicity widened her eyes with fear and the Matron added. "You have no reason to grow apprehensive. Athos would never intentionally hurt a woman and he would not desire a virgin anyhow. Now come on and meet them so you can make your selection. You have an amazing opportunity this night and you must make the most of it. Seize the moment, little one, and never glance back."

Felicity shook her head in agreement, all the while her heart shouting "_flee while you still can"_ and mind reasoning "_this is the only way_". She was the sacrifice. Her family's survival. Her mother would do it for her. Felicity knew this and this knowing was the fuel behind her step as she tread her way toward the table of the famous Musketeers.

"My swaggering swashbucklers, meet my new serving wench, Felicity." Matron Cleo bowed jestful.

Aramis gracefully leaped to his feet despite little Lily's uneasy gaze. He collected Felicity's tiny hand and cooed in a rakish tone, "Most pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady. I am Aramis and I am at your disposal". As if a girl of Felicity class was considered a lady.

Cheeks flaming scarlet, Felicity cast her eyes bashfully down and snatched back her hand. She muttered, "Thank you" in a demure voice.

Aramis smiled. She was a pretty little thing and obviously unspoiled. He pointed at Porthos, who was chugging a tankard of ale. "This is Porthos."

Porthos opened his mouth to speak, but Marigold shut it for him. "And he is a rakish scoundrel!"

"You would know, gutter rat!" Porthos bellowed, slapping Marigold on her hefty thigh.

Felicity only smiled. She had never liked Marigold, finding the middle-aged woman trashy and uncouth. She would slit one's throat over a mere piece of gold.

Celine, who had already overindulged too much for the early hour, clumsily stood and introduced D'artagnan. The young warrior aided his love to sit before taking Felicity's hand in greeting. "Hello." He spoke in such a soft tone Felicity had to strain her ears to understand him. He was as beautiful up close as he was from a distance.

Celine seemed to read Felicity's mind and said, "D'artagnan, perhaps you could oblige Felicity to a dance later on this evening. She is new to the nightlife and has no idea how to dance."

D'artagnan politely agreed, but his eyes hinted that he would prefer to spend his time at Celine's side.

"The only cock she had to dance with back home was a swine, and maybe a chicken or two!" Marigold bawled, making Felicity the butt of her crude joke. Everyone burst into laughter, but Felicity and Athos.

"And this solemn fellow is Athos." Aramis extended a hand in Athos' direction. Athos finished a mug of ale before taking the time to cast his eyes upon Felicity. She smiled a demure smile, their eyes locking briefly before he dismissed her with one stride of his head as if she were an insignificant child. He then reached for a shot.

"A drink?" Aramis offered Felicity a mug of ale.

"No thank you. I do not indulged."

"But tonight is an exception." The Matron announced collecting the foaming tankard from Aramis and placing it in Felicity's hand. Everyone chugged except Felicity, who sniffed the acrid order, scorning it by wrinkling her dainty nose.

"Drink it girl, you will need it." The Matron encouraged.

Catching the whore owner's double meaning, Felicity engulfed the entire contents of the mug.

"That is my girl!" The Matron clasped her arm. "Now run along and fetch more ale for these hard-working men."

Felicity quickly obeyed. After she was out of earshot, the Matron turned to the men and announced, "She is a virgin and tonight is to be her first." Aramis glanced at Porthos with a cocksure smile tugging at his lips. The Matron caught the interaction and added. "May the best man win!"

"Hear hear!" The Musketeers, all but Athos, cheered. There was nothing more delectable than a coy virgin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Fucking Porthos**

**Notes:**

_**Warning this chapter is vulgar, so do not act like you have not been warned!**_

"Get on your knees, you sultry whore!" Porthos ordered, peeling his tunic off and dropping it to Marigold's filthy floor littered with molding cum rags, empty tankards, and stained garments. He marched toward her, his facial features harsh, his chest puffed out.

She glared back at him and spat, nostrils flaring, "Lick my cunt!"

Charging like a rabid bull, he butted her to the bed generating a smashing echo that sounded as if the bed had collapsed. After a fit of rowdy laughter, he asked, ""Have you washed it?" She slapped him hard on the back. "Well hell no!" He groaned "The dirtier, the better," before sinking between her thighs and inhaling a whiff deep into his lungs. The distinguished smell of two day unwashed cunt filled his nostrils, coating his nose hairs with a hint of fishiness. Her odor so strong his eyes stung with tears. "Mmmm...Just the way I like it!" He bellowed on his way down for a taste, mouth watering with anticipation.

"FUCK!" He moaned between sips. She tasted just the way he liked it.

"Dont be greedy! Give these lips something to suck." She snarled, tearing at his pants to undress him.

Now both fully nude except for a few tattoos, she sunk to her knees, not caring that the grime on the stone floor was miring into her knee flesh. Cupping him at his base, she stroked until he was fully erect and throbbing. "Hard and black, just like I like I it!" She opened her mouth wide as she could, which was pretty wide considering she bore a big mouth, and engulfed his full length.

"Nothing makes me harder than seeing my cock in your mouth, you cock hungry whore." Porthos growled, lacing a fistful of her tangled mane between his fingers and twisting.

The busty wench bobbed up and down a few seconds before popping off of him, actually making the popping sound with her mouth. She purred as she squeezed him from his hilt to tip pushing out a sip of precum. It bubbled at his slit and slowly expanded covering the flat of his head. She slurped it up before it drained off the rim of his cock and moaned as if she had just relished a piece of candy.

"Fuck me, you rascal!" Marigold playfully ridiculed him as she spread out across the bed.

Eager to obey, Porthos drew between her thighs while still standing. She arched her ass causing her burly breasts to separate and droop from her ribs, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Aw!" He sighed slipping into her drenched pussy with ease. He seized a fistful of tit and set into her with sledgehammer like thrusts.

"Yes! Oh, fuck yes!" Her face contorting with every howl.

Fucking her deep and hard, Porthos watched her meaty breasts bounce up and down. Sweat dripped off his chest and seeped down in between her tits, the musty moisture adding to the smacking echo of her breast slapping flesh.

"Say you are a filthy whore"! He ordered, reaching under her thick legs and slapping her sweaty ass hard, radiating a sharp piercing sound and branding red welts.

"I am a filthy whore!" She said between gritted teeth. Gritting because she was staining to clench her intimate muscles for Porthos' delight.

He uncoiled her legs and threw them over her head and held them there. The gesture making her cunt wide and vulnerable. He dug his fingers deep into her stretch mark infested flesh. Her ivory skin flushed scarlet under the pressure. He withdrew his cock almost all the way out of her canal only to ram back in, over and over, unrelentingly.

"Now say you are my filthy whore!"

It took her a second to find her voice, consumed with ecstasy. Finally, she wailed, "I am your filthy whore!"

Grunting, panting, brewing of sweat, Porthos dropped her legs and withdrew his cock, grabbed a mess of hair and crammed his cock down her throat. Three strides later, he tightened the grip on her hair, threw his head back like a wild wolf howling at the moon, and groaning guttural sobs of feral ecstasy shot a cannon load in the back of her mouth. So much so that he had to pull out to keep from choking her. He sprayed the remaining jizz on her musty breasts.

Porthos collapsed on the bed gasping for air. He dilated his legs allowing his wet dick to soil the sheets. The sheets were so dirty, one could not even tell. He mooned at his wench with sex drowsy eyes. She peered back at him, lips dripping of cum. The taste of his slimy salt slithering down her throat.

"Fuck yourself like the horny slut you are."

She liked that. Nothing turned her hotter than the vulgarity escaping Porthos' mouth. Facing his limp body, she spread her legs and draped them over Porthos' legs and leaned back so that her breasts were arched in his view. It was not her breasts that he focused on, but her beefy pussy. Her lip folds were massive and stained greyish from too many years of being fucked raw. Her clit fat and a purplish color. Cellulite clung to her inner thighs. The view was arousing to Porthos. Marigold was his ideal fuck. Strong, durable, and raunchy.

Viciously, she fingered her clit generating a wallowing melody. The tune was like music to Porthos' ear. He inhaled deeply catching her drifting scent. Her odor so strong it filled the room. Soon his cock thrived once again.

Mouth gaping, she growled a hurl of obscenities that would make a pirate blush, clenching her ass cheeks, her flabby gut rippling with the need for climax. Porthos shoved a wad of fingers inside her gaping pussy and tantalized her G-spot.

"Fuck! Oh, fuck!" She bellowed overly loud, trembling from head to toe, not giving a shit how animalish she appeared.

Porthos withdrew his fingers just as she squirted a steady stream into his mouth. He gulped the load down and then mauled into her wet cunt, snarling, slurping, devouring her like a savage tearing into raw meat. Like a bitch in heat, she sobbed lewdly, thrashing her head from side to side.

"You fucking tart! Give me that cunt!" He growled flipping her over to her belly and bending her on all fours like the bitch she was. She jiggled her plump ass cheeks, giving him a little show. He let her know he enjoyed it by several fleshy blows from his palm to her ass cheek before plowing into her cunt with such force that it knocked the air from her lungs.

Grunting, he fucked her deep and hard with animatistic strength. The sound of her juicy pussy swallowing his cock chimed the room. She wailed louder and louder to the rhythm of his bestial ferocity. No longer able to hold back, she threw her head back and howled a she-wolf wail, showering his thrusting cock. Her second orgasm causing his cock to pulsate. Every vein in his dick pulsed, engorged with feverish blood.

Now surfing a forbidding frenzy, Porthos nails her to the mattress with his body, grinding his cock as deep as he can penetrate her. He hammered her into the mattress so brutally, her nipples were rubbed raw. Shaking on the verge of convulsion, he digs his nails into the mattress, not even noticing when he tears a hole into the old thing, releasing horse hair and feathers into the already filthy room. Snarling, he stuffs her clenching cunt full of sizzling seed.

"Porthos!" She praised him, working her inner muscles to milk all of him into her womb.

Spunt, he withdraws his flagging cock and flips her to her back. She lies beneath him spread eagle. Her peers down at her still contracting cunt, quivering and dripping of cream. She was a fantastically mess; wrecked and full of his seed. His milky sap oozes from her hole and slimes down her ass seam. Their sexual scent flourishing in the small, windowless room.

He chuckles like a sly whoremonger, pleased with his handy work. "What a nasty cunt you are!" He gloats as he drops his head to lick her cunt once more.

Marigold's eyes rolls back into head. "Soon Aramis and Lily will retire and we will be able to hear their fucking."

Pausing his meal of sloppy cunt, Porthos said, "If Aramis selects Lily. He seemed quite interested in that little virgin."

Marigold had to bite her tongue to keep from lashing off at the mention of Felicity. She hated little bitches like her. Bitches who thought they were too good to bend over for a pocket of coins. Lily was once like that and look at her now. The same fate awaited Felicity. Once committing to a whore's life, there was no escape. Marigold's sneer evolved into a malicious smile. And soon sweet little Felicity would be just another dirty whore like her.

After licking Marigold clean, Porthos belches as if full and stands, dropping a handful of coins on the floor. He whips out his cock and pisses on the money, groaning as he does. Marigold sinks to her knees and crawls across the floor in a seductive manner where she licks her payment dry. Chuckling, he reaches for a bottle of liquor readying himself for an all nighter of drunk fucking.

**Notes:**

_**I plan to write each Musketeer in the following chapters, their sexual demeanor according to the dream that I had. I will update ASAP, but this is not something I plan to rush through as I want it to be worthy.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Not a Man Like Athos**

After hours of jubilant drinking and laughter, Felicity glared up at the light. Her head span, her ears a buzz. She felt faint but giddy at the same time. She was overwhelmingly intoxicated. After a few foggy moments, she glanced back to the tavern. Although the room spun and everything a blur, she could still make out the silhouettes of dancers. She suddenly winced. The men behind her roaring with rowdy jeers. Someone must have cheated on a gambling match.

Porthos and Marigold has already turned in for the night. Lily mooned over Aramis like a love-sick puppy while he openly flirted with every skirt in reach including her.

"Would you like another drink?" Aramis asked her.

Felicity giggled. "No, but I think Lily would." Aramis was a stunning man, his demeanor charming. He was the type of man that was easy to fall in love with. Those with wandering hearts always are.

Lily's pretty eyes lit up. She flashed Felicity a thankful smile. She knew then that Felicity had no intention of moving in on her heart. Loyalty like this was a rare moral in her line of work. Felicity had forever won Lily's friendship.

Aramis flashed a hint of disappointment in Felicity's direction, but his attention did not stagger. He turned to Lily. "My love, would you care for another?"

Lily pecked him on the nose. "I would, but in private please."

Aramis grinned bold and big as he collected her hand and led the young woman upstairs. He cared for Lily just like he did all his mistresses.

As the couple faded from the mist of the candle light, Felicity watched on as an inner sadness engulfed her. Poor Lily. She was in love with a rake. Sure, Aramis was gallant and proud. A true hero, but he was also a champion of hearts. Many hearts. Lily was just another one of those many hearts. It was clear to everyone; everyone except Lily. It was her own fault really. It wasn't like Aramis ever promised her more.

For a brief second, Felicity closed her eyes, cutting off the rowdy tavern around her. The male jeers faded, the music silenced, and the laughter of tavern girls diminished. She was back on her farm, tending the fields while her mother tossed the ball to her younger sister, to a time when the future was bright and the world offered adventure. She opened her eyes as a single tear escaped and cascaded down her cheek. She glanced around the tavern. To the right, a tavern girl sat on the lap of a man three times her age, his hand up her dress while she fondled a gold coin. To the left, a serving wench, who had too much to drink, was vomiting while a lanky juvenile toyed with her ass. This tavern, this God awful tavern was to be her only adventure as well as her doom. She did not want to be the wench on the floor barfing her bloody brains out or Lily, a simple-minded foolish girl, who would eventually wake up to an abandoned, shattered heart.

She balled her fists and tensed her spine. She was about to flee, to run as fast as she could away from this hell hole, but then she relaxed her spine and her fists fell limp. She was her mother's survival. Without the money from the tavern she could not pay the physician and he would halt her mother's treatments. She would die and that was the last thing Felicity wanted.

She suddenly seized a mug of ale and funneled in down, guzzling it like she was terminally diseased and devouring the fountain of her life.

Athos had already drifted into a dark corner, content on drowning his memories. He watched her spotting a glimpse of himself in her. She was trying fruitlessly to bury something painful just as he did every time he drank. W_hatever was plaguing the young woman, she would not soothe by reaching the bottom of the tankard_, he said mentally. He smirked. He should take his own advice.

Slamming the empty tankard down, she glanced in his direction as if mentally summoned. He peered up from his tankard into her glossy opals. This was the third time she had caught him looking at her. Before she had bashfully cast her gaze away, but with the ale making her bold, she held his gaze; their eyes locking. In them she spotted pain, darkness, but also lust. The Matron had been wrong. He desired her and the knowing excited, yet also frightened her. She had to select a man to fuck tonight, but it would not be a man like Athos.

**Notes:**

_**I hope everyone is enjoying this. Next chapter will be about Aramis for Ikko. Thank you Ikko for the comment.**_

_**Thank you Roxy for taking the time to comment and for your support. I was wondering whether or not to continue sharing this story on this site. My story stats show it has many silent followers. Thank you again for your kind words. If I stop updating, you can find me on A03. Just search for Avalonmedieval. There is much more reader/writer interaction on A03 and I can respond directly.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Fucking Aramis**

Aramis slowly undressed in the moonlight. Its mist illuminating his flawless flesh covering sinewy muscles. Erotically slow, he strutted toward the bed with a sultry smile etched upon his lips. Lily reclined with her head on a pillow, soaking up every second of the private show, legs spread wide, peering up at him with cock hungry eyes.

"You have the body of a Greek god." She praised him, her voice low and seductive. She lived for these precious moments to be with him. He was the light at the end of the tunnel. The beacon that kept her going.

The Musketeer smiled egotistical. He was stunning and he knew it, but still it felt good to hear it, especially coming from one as appealing as Lily. Out of all his mistresses, Lily was the fairest of all. She was dainty, her voice soft, and most importantly, clean. Even her room was clean, filled with saintly white curtains and table cloths, glowing candles, and fresh lilies everywhere.

He drew to the foot of the bed and slowly crawled across it and up his admirer's nude body, stopping to rest his rear on her chest. He could feel her heart mock the fervor in her reflection beat against his flesh.

Eyeing the hardening cock only inches from her lips, Lily added, "And you also have one's vigor." She released a faint teasing giggle. Cupping his cock, she kissed its tip and then smeared it all over her face, loving it, worshiping it. Aramis was her god and one day he would deliver her from this wretched hell hole.

Now fully erect, he straddled her face, resting his balls in the hollow of her neck, and slid all nine inches down her throat. She tightened her lip-covered teeth around his virile mass and applied suction, working her jaw muscles vigorously.

He thrust deep and slow, taking pleasure in watching her reaction. She appeared beautifully perverse, like an angel that had been lured from Heaven. Their eyes locked, their breathing simultaneous. Every time she moaned, her throat stimulated his cock causing him to mock her moan and curl his toes.

Lily was a pro at sucking dick. She had been doing it since the Matron took her in as a child. Within minutes she had Aramis groaning and clenching his ass fighting rapture. Lily knew Aramis well. They had been fucking for months now and she knew when he was holding back. She clasped her hands around his ass moving at the pace of his thrust and swallowed him to the hilt. Eyes glistening with tears, cheeks straining to suck, working her erotic magic, she guided him to bliss.

"Aye…" He exhaled. He could not hold back any long. Bracing his hands on the posts of the four post bed, he unloaded a wad of searing male nectar down her throat. She closed her lids, moaning, greedily drinking every drop of him, loving the taste of sex coating her belly. She air humped her hips, yearning for something huge and hard like Aramis to fill her.

"Don't fret, baby, you know I am going to give you what you need." He cooed, sliding down her body, kneading her breast and toying with her erect nipples.

"Only you can give it to me." She winced, the burning emptiness in her womb taking its toll. Her nipples were so swollen with desire, they throbbed almost as bad as her womb.

"But not yet. You have to beg me first." He teased, dropping his mouth to her breast and leeching on. He knew just how to suck a nipple to bring a woman to climax. Just as Lily was there, jittery with a building orgasm, he released her nipple causing her climax to crash.

"Oh, god, please Aramis!" She begged, her tone pitifully beseeching. A yearning fire raged within; a fire that needed quenching. Every nerve ending pulsed. She clung to the verge of sanity. She hated it when he tortured her so. But this was his game and he played it well.

He cut off her pleading with his mouth. She melted beneath his kiss. His lips soft, his kiss gentle. He slowly slipped his tongue in and out of her mouth, tongue-fucking her while branding her with his finger.

"Mmm...Someone is searing." With each thrust, he spooned a bit of her hot sap and spread it about her seam, saturating every intimate inch of her.

Her legs began to quiver, her cunt in spasm. "Please, oh please!" Couldn't he witness the torment she suffered? Did he not sympathize with the agony brewing within?

"It will be my pleasure." He ensured her. Nothing turned him hotter than seeing a woman infected with delirious ecstasy. The good thing about infection is that it is contagious.

He thrust his pelvis into her groin, giving her everything he had. Moaning, she clenched her cunt muscles swallowing every inch of him, pulling him as deep as she could get him. She could feel every ridge, every bulging vein pulsate against her inner flesh. He was magnificent.

He fucked her slow and precise, his eyes glued to the sight of pussy swallowing his slick cock. In and out, slow and deep, wetter and wetter.

"Aramis! Oh, Aramis!" She sobbed lustfully. "Please…" She wanted to beg him to fuck her faster, to rush her climax, but the sensations whirling caused her words to falter. She could barely breathe, let alone speak.

He smiled smugly knowing exactly what she thought she wanted, but he knew better than her. She needed what he was giving her. He continued a slow rhythm, angling the hook of his cock to mesmerize her G-spot, his pelvis bone to stroke her clit, and the tip of his head to trigger her A-spot near her cervix.

This was the final straw. She could tolerate no more. She let go. Trembling from head to toe, ears ringing, vision growing blurry, she squealed, thrashing her head from side to side, panting. Digging her fingernails into the mattress, she rode against him until the building tension exploded. As if on cue, Aramis buried himself as deep as he could penetrate her, filling her full, grinding his head hard against her cervix, rubbing her clit raw with his pubic bone. Eyes rolling into the back of her head, she erupted, squirting a slew of feminine syrup.

Depleted, her limbs limp and tingling like her whole body was a funny bone and she had just smashed it, she whined and mewed of sexual ravishment. Aramis had grew placid, conceitedly relishing his immaculate work. His angel had finally fell and he her seducer.

After granting her time to catch her breath, he flipped her over and arched her ass to accept his lust. Seductive whisperings was the only sound in the room as he coaxed her into relaxing her ass for his pleasure. His cock marinaded in her cum, he gently inserted himself into her rear canal and drilled slowly with only half his length. She reached underneath and begin tantalizing her clit causing her canal to flush even more slick.

"That is nice." He moaned intensifying his thrust, now fucking with all nine inches. Lily loved it. She felt like a mare being bred by a virile stag of insatiable ecstasy. One thing about Aramis, unlike her other customers, he did not climax until she did. It was this courtesy and respect for her needs that won her heart.

"Ooooo...Mmmmm…." She purred when his thrusts evolved primitive, revealing his ravenous sexual hunger. Bucking wildly causing his perspired drenched testicles to slap her flesh with each impalement, Aramis growled riding a sensual frenzy. Gripping her hips, he burrowed deep-rooted and erupted a load of sizzling cream up into her innards.

On impact his hot molten seared another orgasm for Lily. Rubbing her clit raw, she skewered her ass, and quivered out another gush of euphoria. Aramis would be the death of her, but at least she would die blissful.

Aramis stayed inside while she rode out her climax, his cock still pulsating. Her ass cavity, filled to the rim, began to seep out and drain on the clean sheets. He popped her softly on the rear cheek as if scolding her for spilling seed, always the playful charmer.

He tenderly pulled his now flagging cock out and dropped to the bed with a satisfied sigh. She collapsed and moaning she ladled a dollop of semen from her privates and crammed it in her mouth, liking the taste of her juices mixed with his.

After his breathing tranquilized, Aramis stood and opened a window swallowing the cool breeze that rushed in, and laid back down, allowing it to cool their overheated bodies.

"You are fantastic. There is no one else like you, Aramis."

He smirked. He already knew this. He had been told this time and time again by countless women.

"There is nothing that I would not do for you." She went on, hoping that he would talk to her instead of falling asleep like he usually did . When he did not reply, she sat up and leaned over his body. His breathing signified he was already deep in slumber. She smiled and bent to kiss him faintly on the lips so not to wake him. "I love you. You are my sole happiness in this wretched life." She whispered before laying back down and snuggling as close as she could to his warm body, dreaming that one day he would love her just as much as she loved him. Sadly, that day would never come.

**Notes:**

_**I hope everyone liked how I wrote Aramis.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Whoring**

Matron Cleo refilled Athos' tankard.

"Tell me about the new girl. Why is whoring?" He asked, his voice not quite slurred, but it was still early.

Surprised by his question as Athos rarely pondered in another's personal affairs, she accepted a seat across from him and folded her hands. "What makes you think that she bears a specific reason? What makes her different from any other greedy woman out for a good time?"

"Her eyes."

The Matron smiled. "You have agile instincts Athos. I am impressed. Her father is dead. Her mother suffers from lung sickness and so it is up to her to pay the bills. She is just lucky that she found me in time."

"Lucky? You see yourself as her savior?" Athos narrowed his eyes. "You are ruining her. You are the pestilence that plagues innocent girls to their demise."

"No, Felicity is but her own savior. I am merely providing her the chance to play the hero."

"Hero?"

"Yes, Athos, hero. Sure, you would be more than willing to play that role if she were being assaulted in the street. You would daringly rush in and slay the dragon for the glory. But when a woman is in real distress, left on her own to face the heartless world and there is no glory to gain by her coming to her aid, you turn your back on her abandoning to fend on her own. Heroes like you make girls like Felicity a whore. You buy them, fuck them, and leave them. Women like me just teach them how to survive it."

"I do not know what happened to you in your past. Whatever you were forced to endure made you who you are today and it must have been pretty severe."

"It is the same with you, Athos. Your past evolved you into the man you are now."

Across the room Felicity watched D'artagnan as he watched Celine flaunt over a group of handsome new recruits. The young woman was immensely intoxicated and having difficulties standing. The recruits did not seem to mind, enjoying the places she touched them every time she stumbled.

Laughing, Celine snatched a tankard of ale and engulfed it in one gulp. The men cheered around her encouraging her to down another. After the second, she fell over and more than one bent down to collect her, except this time they did not come back up.

D'artagnan sprung to his feet and shoved the onlookers away finding Celine spread eagle with two sets of hands groping her privates. One look in D'artagnan's bellicose reflection and the men scattered leaving Celine dazed in the dirty floor.

"Get up!" He snarled, tugging Celine to her feet. Giggling, she wrapped her arms around his neck and called over her shoulder, "Another time boys! There is plenty of cunt for everyone!"

He led Celine back to the table where Felicity was sitting. Celine sat down in a huff, snatched Felicity's drink, down it and then finished off D'artagnan's. D'artagnan watched her with sad eyes making Felicity pitied the young man. He obviously cared a great deal for Celine and Celine could care less about herself, let alone him.

"Celine, don't you think you have had enough?"

"No where near it." She slurred, holding up her hand to signal a bar wench for another.

D'artagnan sighed. Celine ignored him, or maybe she just didn't hear him. Her eyes were glued to a Musketeer at a nearby table known for his bondage fetish.

"Felicity, I think it is time for D'artagnan to teach you a few steps." She said smiling, her tone coy. It was evident she was plotting in her head.

D'artagnan sharply glanced at Celine's suggestion. It was clear he did not want to leave her side. He knew what would happen if he did. Men would flock to her like she was a bitch in heat. Celine loved group sex and the knowing plagued his heart. He hated to share her.

"Another time. I think if I stand, I shall fall." Felicity said, letting D'artagnan off the hook.

Celine giggled, glancing up at all the young Musketeers who eyed the unsuspecting virgin, wishing she was in her place. "Do not fret for someone would catch you without haste."

Felicity grinned and shielded her mouth with her hand. Even drunk she was still graceful.

"I still have a few moves you have not seen." D'artagnan whispered in Celine's ear. The whore erupted into a fit of drunk giggles. After containing herself, she leaned over, pressing her bosom against his chest, and cooed, "Show me in my room, but first you have to buy me a few bottles of wine to take with us."

Felicity bid the couple goodnight. She was now sitting alone at the table. She peeked at Athos who was chugging in the corner without any attention on her. Men surrounded her in every direction and all of them had their eye on her save one. She must have been immensely intoxicated because for a split second she felt neglected, but then she shook her head, laughing out loud at her own foolishness. For some unexplained reason she was stirred by the broody Musketeer. The very one she had been warned to steer clear of. She suddenly sombered. This was not a game. It was a job. She was drunk and not thinking correctly. She needed to sober, to clear her mind before she ended up ruining everything. She snatched her dress hem and headed toward the washroom in hopes that a splash of cold water would drive away the muddled buzz.

But on the way down the dark hall, a noise stopped her. Not really a noise, more like a sensual melody. As if under a trance, she followed the erotic tune to Celine's door. She could hear D'artagnan's soft voice, but could not make out his words. He seemed to be whispering sensual sentiments. What she could hear well was the sound of the bed banging against the wall and Celine's deep throaty sobs of ecstasy.

Enchanted by the sexual melody and disoriented under the influence, Felicity hiked her leg up against the wall and began fingering her clit in midnight's darkness. Tonight was to be her first and she knew the first time would not be a pleasure, so she would pleasure herself first.

**Notes:**

**D'Artagnan's sexual encounter is up next...**

_Katiness, Amanda, Wholocked, and Emmy, thanks for taking the time to read my story and for commenting. _


	6. Chapter 6

Pulling her hair up, his lips nuzzled her neck generating sensations to ooze up her spine. Her loins throbbing, yearning for cock. Celine had not fucked since yesterday, but then it had been with an old man, old, but wealthy. He overpaid for her and his tip had been double what he had paid for the night to the Matron. He had not made her climax. She had to pretend. Tonight she would not have to do so. D'artagnan would make sure of that.

"What do you want, love?"

She peered into D'artagnan's love-filled gaze, almost feeling sorry for him. She could never love him, but of course she would never tell him that. He might stop coming and she enjoyed not only his money, but also his passion. She had spent months teaching him how to please her. She was not ready to cast him aside yet.

Already naked, she dropped her knees, glinting a bewitching twinkle, and replied. "You know exactly what I want."

D'artagnan fell between her thighs, burying his tongue deep, thrusting it in and out, slurping her nectar as he did so.

Like a goddess, Celine reclined on a pillow, sipping a tankard of wine while the young musketeer devour her. She watched him. He was youthful and strong, his vigor virile, and best of all he was completely devoted to her. She could have him if she wanted him. _Hell, she could have any bloke she desired._ She was beautiful and bore the reputation for one of the best fucks in Paris. Her mother had been a courtesan in Spain. She had been trained by the best and her mother had taught her every trick, every manipulative technique to make a man crumble to their knees and bow for a piece of pussy.

D'artagnan, like many, was in love with her. He had made his love known on numerous occasions. He was sexy, a good fuck, but that was about all he had to offer. She glanced around the candle-lit room. Her wardrobe was oozing of expensive gowns that wealthy Bourgeoisie had gifted her. Clothes made of the finest. She also had exquisite jewelry and other precious gifts. She had everything she has ever desired right here. All the wine she could drink and a new fuck every night. _Why would she give this up to live as a wife and bear a houseful of brats that would destroy her voluptuous figure?_

"No, thank you." She hissed, but D'artagnan did not hear her. He was too busy sucking a clit.

Celine finished the wine and tossed the empty container aside. "Aye!" She began to howl over and over again until she gushed. Not many could lick a pussy with such skill as D'artagnan. He was a natural.

Spunt, she collapsed, glaring up at her ceiling with D'artagnan now kissing a trail up her abdomen. _Yes, this was the life._ There was no place else she would rather be.

Eventually, he made his way to her neck, granting her time to recuperate. Each nibble, each tender kiss came from his heart, an outpouring of tenderness.

"Celine...I…"

"Fetch me more wine." She interrupted him.

D'artagnan paused, pain glistening in his eyes, but Celine was too drunk to care. He jumped to his feet to obey her request. While she inhaled it, he mesmerized her nipples.

Aroused again and finished with her wine, she shoved him flat, crawling on top of him. She purred sensually, like a cat prowling an alley at midnight.

"Celine…" He cooed, staring up into the reflection of a goddess. She sat upon him, voluptuous breasts taut and entangled in silky strands of hair. Her eyes half-lidded with seduction and her flesh captive of the candlelight. He was utterly spellbound.

She placed her fingers to his lips. "Do not speak."

Grinning a naughty smile, she withdrew a pair of bounds from her nightstand and tied his wrists to the corner posts. Like playing a sensuous tune, she rubbed her pussy up and down his body, making sure to marinade him in her sticky sap. From his abdomen to his face, she slithered up and down, moaning, stimulating herself. Set a flame, she cradled his face, riding against him.

Celine glanced behind. D'artagnan cock was erect, sticking up from his body. It twitched with need. She smiled knowing exactly what it needed.

Placing her palms upon his brawny chest, she captured half his length with her cunt and tightened her muscles, swirling her hips, teasing him. Feeling him fully engorged and pulsating, she pulled herself from him forcing him to beg. She giggled with each of his pleas, teasing his tip to her clit, playing in his pre-cum. She made him listen to the wallowing sound of his shaft rubbing against her cunt, let him taste sips of her intimate nectar from her fingertips, feeding him, indulging him.

After a torturous time, she slipped back down on him and began swirling her hips in a circular motion. Every now and then she'd plunged down and back up squeezing her muscles making him to groan from a torturous kind of pleasure.

"Please, Celine!"

"Oh, alright. Since you asked nicely." She erratically dug her nails into his flesh and fucked him fast and hard, taking him to the only place she had the power to take him.

Buried in the quicksands of lust, Celine sobbed, D'artagnan whispered erotic delights. Their gyrating shadows danced upon the candle lit wall. All within hearing range could hear their passion.

"Aye...Aye...AYE!" She cried, cumming fantastical, crippling her. D'artagnan held back allowing her time to spew. Immediately afterwards, he released inside her, his hot lava stimulating a second orgasm for Celine.

"FUCK!" She wailed, dropping to his body, clenching out another steady stream.

She laid upon him for sometime, not bothering to remove his flagging dick from her pussy. Sexdazed, she did not even feel their sexual fluids draining from her body. After their sweat had cooled and dried, her mouth began to water. D'artagnan was talking, confessing his heart to her, but she was not listening. She needed a drink._ No, she needed a bottle._

She untied D'artagnan and staggered to her feet to fetch a bottle of wine. Sloppily, she chugged it. D'artagnan watched her with love-torn eyes. "Come back to me, Celine." He called to her as she finished the bottle. Right before she made it back to the bed, she crumbled to her knees. D'artagnan shot up from the bed and gently laid her out of the bed.

"God, Celine, baby, why must you drink so heavy?"

She muttered a delayed, guttural reply, but D'artagnan was unable to make sense of her words. He laid down beside her, stroking the hair from her face. She snored as he bore his heart to her.

Eyes closed, Felicity sighed lustful, her fingers working a steady pace. Her pussy had become so wet that some of it had seeped down her thigh. She could hear Celine moaning, sobbing with passion. She wanted to be her, to feel what she was feeling, but it was not D'artagnan she craved, but another. One that she had been warned to avoid. There was just something about his dark nature that stirred her. She could not help it. She had always been like that. Whatever her mother had warned her not to touch, she touched. She had been bitten and burned more times than she could count.

So engrossed with ecstasy, Felicity failed to hear someone lurking behind her until strong arms wrapped around her from her backside and cradled her sensually against the cove of his body. His body lean and rippling with muscle, his scent a mixture of leather and liquor. He must have been stalking her for awhile as his cock was already rock hard and thriving against its leather bounds.

Eyes still closed, she reclined her head against his chest and ran her fingertips up his forearms. "Monsieur Athos…" She cooed his name without having to turn around to see who it was, desire oozing from her voice.

She could hear him orally smirk, pleased and even a bit cocky.

Athos nuzzled his face into her hair, caressing her with his lips. With one hand he groped her breast and with the other he explored her threshold. Never uttering a word, he set into stroking her clit bringing her to climax within seconds.

Squirming, moaning, thrashing her head back and forth against his chest, she gushed against his fingers. Celine cried out with climax, exhilarating Felicity's.

Spunt, she remained in Athos' embrace, head tilted, heart pounding, leg still extended while he toyed with her juices.

He withdrew his marinaded fingers and brought his hand up the front of her chest to his mouth that was resting at her shoulder. She could smell her feminine scent upon his fingers. He inhaled deep, purring, relishing her aroma like one would do a fine wine before drinking. Although her fragrance was clean, it bore a certain smell. The kind of smell pussy has when it has not not been fucked in a while and needs to be fucked. She listened to him slurp upon his fingers coated in her nectar, the act arousing her.

Her intimate wine now devoured, he lowered his hands down the cleavage of her dress and whispered against her neck, his warm breath prickling her flesh. "This is not the pussy of a child, but one of a woman who is ripe and ready to be fucked."

As he spoke, he grinded his cock against her rear. Felicity moaned in agreement. He was right. She had abandoned childhood when she left the farm.

"Do you want to be fucked?" He asked, his voice flowing with desire.

"Yes."

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Oh, yes."

Athos released her on sudden impulse and spun her around to face him. He gripped the sides of her face with tender strength. "It is going to hurt. I am going to hurt you. Do you understand this?"

"I do." She said swallowing his alcohol laced breath. The Matron had already warned her of the pangs that accompanied the loss of virginity.

"I have your consent?" He needed reassurance. The last thing he needed in his drunken state was to get inside and then be ordered to stop.

She ran her hands up his chest. "Yes. Dont stop."

He smirked arrogantly, cocksure of himself. "Bear no fear of that." He muttered as he lifted her into his arms and carried off to her fate, strutting with an arrogant male grace that boasted of supremacy. This will be a night that she will never forget.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Fucking Athos**

Athos carried Felicity to a small room, its only light the light of the moon from an open window, and placed her to her feet. She peered up into his moon blushed reflection and asked, "Why me? The Matron said you rarely indulge."

Athos chuckled. He was often teased by his comrades regarding his almost celibacy. "I bear little thirst for whores, but what man doesn't desire a virgin?"

"So if I were already a whore, you would not want me?"

"If you were not a virgin, I would not do this."

"Do what?" She squealed, barely getting her question voiced as he scooped her up into his arms and plowed her up on the dresser. He jerked her dress over her head, pleased to find her bare beneath it, and spread her legs wide. She released a second startled squeal when he dropped between her legs, kissing and sucking her inner thighs. The act building anticipation for what would come.

She could not believe this was happening. Just last week she was a beggar on the street and tonight she had a prestige Musketeer between her legs, and getting paid. No wonder young maidens of poverty glamorized whorish lifestyles. It had it kicks.

In between kisses, he blew against her hairless cunt causing it to sear and grow dewy. It was young and unused, utterly beautiful blushed in a rosy shade. The scent...the texture...just looking at it generated Athos' mouth to water.

"Aye…" She gasped when he suddenly mauled into her, sucking, kissing, and chewing her clit like a hungry predator. She could hear him inhaling her scent as he ravished her fruit, feel him shivering with lust. She sighed, relishing the warmth from his nostrils against her intimate flesh as his breathing intensified.

Spreading her folds, he licked down her seam, thrusting his tongue inside her threshold as he made his way down, and then back up only to repeat the pattern and increase speed. His fingering had felt good, but this was nothing like she had ever felt before. Soon she began to curl her toes and clench her ass cheeks, her womb aching, the tension brewing inside yearning for release. And when she could no longer contain her passion, she seized a handful of Athos' shaggy hair and began grinding her cunt into his face, allowing her inner primitive emotions to flow. He took this as his cue to leech on to her clit and suck vigorously, working his jaws in deep suction, taking her to bliss.

Felicity crashed the back of her head into the wall, her mouth open and frozen in contortion, while her pussy convulsed a gush of nectar into Athos' mouth. He devoured her greedily, slurping and snarling with lust. The taste driving him into momentary delirium.

His mind returning, he drew to his feet and kissed her deep and hard so that she could taste herself on his lips. When the kiss broke, she caressed her sap from his beard to clean him.

"I have got you off twice and now it is my turn."

She smiled a smile as sweet as a fairy's and nodded in agreement, not at all frightened. She had hoped that he would return the gesture, instead his lips never broke. He collected her into his arms and arranged her tenderly on the bed. He kicked off his boots and discarded his weapons, and still dressed, he fell upon her showering her neck and breasts with kisses and gentle nips.

"Are you in your time?" He asked in between sips of her nipples.

"What?"

"Can you become pregnant if I release inside you?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" He asked a second time, not willing to risk a pregnancy.

"Yes. The Matron keeps track of this for us." She assured him in a honey-coated voice. She was not yet ready to bear children with a sick mother and tender-aged siblings to feed.

He paused to discard his shirt and then sunk back to render another shower of kisses. This time his lips were fierce, his vigor feverish. He sipped off her tongue and growled, "I am going to fuck you hard, Felicity."

The tenderness in his voice had diminished, replaced with something primitive. She peered up into his tameless opals, her defenseless innocence shimmering. She then realized just how small she was against his masculine body, his hard and scarred, her's flawless and silky. He older than she and experienced. While most maidens her age were initiated into sex by beardless youths, she would be broke in by a man who had killed more men than the number of years she had been alive. A feeling of uncertainty washed over her. Just like when she were a child and sneaked off to ride a feral stallion her mother had warned her to stay away from, she did not realize danger until it was too late. Trapped beneath his lustful wrath, it was now too late.

As if reading her apprehension, Athos tried to calm her. "Do not fear me."

Mustering courage, she lied. "I do not!" The Matron has warned her to never reveal fright during sex. Certain types preyed on women like this. Athos might very well be this type.

He smirked and dropped his pants watching her brave reaction melt.

Her gaze fell upon his cock, thick and thriving. She sucked in a startled breath. Inch by inch, her eyes trailed his mass, her heart pounding, eyes wide and glued to his intimidating cock, long, too long, and almost the width of her wrist. She shook her head, unintentionally scooting backwards, fleeing from the promised torment.

"Come here, lamb." He coaxed in a honeyed voice. The kind of voice one would use when luring a wild beast off to the slaughter.

She knew her limitations. She had inserted her fingers multiple times into her vagina while masturbating and if her dainty fingers hurt, Athos would kill her. "I can't take that."

He snared her hips with his dominating hands and drug her to back to him. Looming over her, he ensured her. "Yes, you can. You were made for a man."

"Not for one like you!"

He smiled smugly and jacked her legs apart, reaching down to fondle her. He was a whore's delight and a virgin's nightmare. "You can take me and you will." He hissed, his voice low carrying a hint of darkness.

He captured a fistful of hair, twisting it around his strong fingers, holding it tightly at the scalp, and possessed her mouth, ravaging her most savagely. She moaned into his mouth, easily seduced by his touch. Something about his aggressive nature stirred her. He could feel her nipples taut and beckoning against his chest as if pleading with him to fill her full of cock. Obeying her body's request, he kissed a trail down her breasts and abdomen to between her legs and using the flat of his tongue, he spanked her clit. She bucked against the wanted assault, whimpering salaciously. With each whimper, his cock grew longer and harder until it reach the point of agony. He knew she wanted to cum again, but this was only to get her wet enough to accept him inside.

Mounting her, he drew a deep breath to control his vigor. With him drunk and her a virgin, if he gave into the feral urge plaguing his sanity, he'd wound her and that was something he refused to render. Virgins needed special care.

He collected each hand one at a time and kissed them. "I want you to hold on to the bed posts." He ordered as he guided her hands to the corner posts.

She did not understand his reason behind the request, but obeyed without question.

He parted her knees wide as he could get them. "Keep your legs spread. It is going to hurt, but if you tense up and your body fights it, you will hurt worse."

He massaged the tip of his cock into her cunt saturating it with her searing moisture. Now slick, he encircled her rim a few strides until he was able to wedge the broad head of his cock into her threshold. She winced, but did not cry out. Granting her time to adjust, he thrust his hips forward, but met resistance. He knew she was struggling to remain silent. She had closed her eyes and stiffened her entire body trying to bear the painful invasion.

"Baby, relax for me." He whispered, his own voice faltering. Like her, he was experiencing pain, just a different kind.

He drew his hips back and this time rendered a forceful thrust, one that caused her body to react on instincts. She released the posts and slammed her palms to his chest. He stilled at her virginal barrier realizing she was smaller than he imagined and to break through he was going to have to use more strength than he wanted to utilize.

As soon as she realized her natural reaction, embarrassed, she dropped her hands from his chest letting him know she was willing. He dropped to kiss her and in the process he pinned her wrists above her head, shoved her legs over his shoulders, immobilizing her, leaving her cunt exposed and vulnerable. He withdrew to her rim and held her gaze.

"Completely relax."

She closed her lids and when he felt her obey, he plunged back in, deep and conquering, lacerating her sheath and piercing her to the core. She lamented, feeling as if she had been impaled by a flaming spear, her womb on fire, splitting and singeing. He tightened his grip on her wrists, forcing her remain beneath him, and placid, his mouth captured hers; dominating and demanding.

He could feel her tears hot against his cheeks, hear her heart pounding wildly. He continued to tongue fuck her, hoping to ease her pain with the return of her fervor. Still placid, he endured the strangulation of her intimate muscles battling his size. Her channel was taut and his cock wide, stretching her pussy channel beyond limit. While their sexual organs battled, he closed his eyes fighting a different kind of battle. He shivered violently, resisting the urge to fuck her the way his body cried out to fuck her. He could not allow his lust or the alcohol to take control, not even for a second.

"Athos.." She muttered against his lips. He hushed her, his patience wearing thin. She had no idea how bad he could hurt her.

Slowly he began thrusting his hips in and out of her, trying desperately hard not to succumb to carnal derangement, but the grip of her intimate muscles making it almost impossible to resist. He had not enjoyed the tightness of virgin in years and the delight was intoxicating, almost overwhelming.

"Athos…" She called again with tears lacing her voice.

"The pain will pass, love." He assured her, kissing her gently on the lips. She returned his kiss so that he would know it was alright to continue fucking her.

Lifting his body, he dropped her legs and peered down into her pristine beauty admiring her unused body. "You are too fair to whore."

"I have no choice, Athos." The pain slowly lessening. He was gentle and patient with her, which surprised her after the warning the Matron had cast regarding intimacy with Athos.

"Everything is choice, Felicity. You are beneath me because you choose to be." He said, fingering her clit and angling his thrust to manipulate her G-spot.

The burning sensation still plaguing, but a new feeling began to conquer the pain. And his sinewy body was so enticing on top of hers bewitching her mind to forget physical torment. She curled her lips in ecstasy, reaching out to caress his chest. He was a magnificent warrior and he was buried inside her, branding her, about to fill her with his seed.

"Do you like it?" He asked her, pumping slow and erotically into her, careful to give her only half his length.

"Yes.." She purred, now thrashing a bit. She would not be able to walk tomorrow, but tonight under the yoke of ale, he felt good as fuck.

He seized an erect nipple, pinching it sternly between his fingers. "Fuck me. Use your hips." He growled, his loins aflame from watching her sultry reflection.

Without hesitation, she met his pace, quivering each time she came down upon her G-spot.

He watched her stomach muscles rippling, admired her erotic reflection with each and every thrust. She was mesmerizing. She thrashed her head, sobbed out his name, whimpered and moaned, panting until sensual paralyzation overwhelmed her. Right as she began showering his thrusting cock, Athos seized her throat and slammed as deep as he could into her, embedding the head of his cock into her cervix and grinding, marring his public bone into her clit. She tried to wail, but her voice choked. He strangled her until she was empty and her eyes rolled back into her head.

Before she lost consciousness, he drove his body forth, nailing her to bed with his dominating body and springing her mind back to life. Giving in, corrupted and depraved from a mixture of drunkenness and lust, sweating and panting, he mercilessly slammed into her, fucking her deep and hard, pounding and conquering.

"Athos!" He heard her summon him somewhere below his sexual high, her voice tiny and strained.

"Shh!" He hissed, entrapping her wrists above her head, his features contorting with each unrestrained thrust.

"Please, oh please." She was not asking him to stop, only to lessen his fervor. Every virile inch of him was sawing into her wounded flesh as if he was digging into her entrails, tearing her insides apart.

Sweat seeped from his hard-driving body and oozed down her flesh, her tits wet and rubbed raw, slapping to the pace of his thrusts. The bed banged against the wall, his rhythm steady and unrelenting. Writhing, she lamented beneath him.

"Take it like this, baby, for a minute!" He begged, his mind wavering among the depraved. He needed this. He needed this release, this euphoric release.

Pumping deep and almost viciously into her virginal womb, primitive and fierce, he could hear her whimpering. She sounded pitiful beneath him, weak and helpless. Her soft whimpers inflaming his passion even more, reminding him just how dominant he really was over the fair sex. He could hurt a woman severely if he so desired. He had never hurt Milady, always tender, perhaps too tender, perhaps he should have hurt her and maybe she would never have become the murderous thorn she was.

"Athos!" Felicity wailed, gasping for air. Each thrust knocking the air from her lungs.

Coming out of the trance and realizing his thrusting had unintentionally evolved sadistic, he slowed his pace and lessened the grip of his fingers around her wrists. He could not have wounded Milady just as he could not hurt the little beauty trapped beneath him now.

"Felicity.." She peered up at him as he called her name noticing the yearning passion glazing his voice. She had been told that clients rarely called out their whore's name in bed. They tended to call whoever their heart or mind was pretending they were with. But Athos had muttered her name signifying that his heart was truly empty. She arched against his insistent thrusting and watched his face as he fucked her. There was a great melancholy in him, a distance, a scar upon his heart, but there was also passion and need. He was the kind of man a woman wanted to heal. The kind of man who broke the hearts of those who dared tried.

Ears a hum, vision dark and of gleaming stars, Athos buried himself as deep as he could and growling in a sultry tone, he bled waves of rapture into her core. He flung his head down, his untame hair masking his face, and released her wrists. She gripped the bed posts and arching, she rode against him, clenching her tunnel muscles, milking him, drawing his cream forth. He cursed, induced from sexual satisfaction, and she purred, feeling his cock pulsating inside her.

After pumping several deep meaty strides to be sure he had emptied himself fully, he dropped to her side and cradled her sensually against the width of his bare chest. She draped her leg over his, not heeding the mixture of blood and intimate fluids seeping from her well-fucked cunt. Athos did not mind. He just reclined with her and allowed the mixture to ooze on to him. He caressed the sweaty strands of hair from her face as their breathing tranquilized, kissing her forehead softly every now and then. Both exerted, drunk, and sexually sated, neither uttered a word. The couple quickly lulled into a deep, satisfied slumber.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: The Morning After**

**Porthos** grunted painfully as he peeled open his weary lids. Last night's alcohol was reaping it sow upon his head. "Marigold, I have to leave." He groaned, sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his bloodshot eyes. When she did not respond, he glanced over finding her deep in slumber, mouth open and drooling. He chuckled and slapped her on the rear. "Wake up and kiss your buccaneer goodbye."

"Go on! Just be sure you do not steal my money before you go!" She growled, rolling her back to him and burying her face into a pillow.

Porthos shook his head, smiling as he dressed. Some things would never change, which was fine with him. He liked his life just the way it was.

**"When will you come again?"**

Aramis peered down at Lily as he dressed. Tears were blooming in her eyes. He stopped what he was doing and collected her into his arms. "Soon, my love."

She buried her head against his neck, quelling the welling tears. "I love you, Aramis. I will always love you." She whispered.

"I know." He replied. He kissed her softly and with a heavy heart, he bid her, "Until next time". He would soon have to end his affair with Lily. He cared about her, but not enough to commit to her alone. It was not right to continue with her knowing that he was hurting her. He could not bear to emotionally wound any woman's heart.

He left a purse of coins on the table on his way out the door.

Lily collapsed to the bed without a glance at the money and allowed the tears to fall. Aramis was slowly crippling her heart.

**D'artagnan** placed Celine's tip and the Matron's payment beside the bed. He had tried several times to rouse his sleeping beauty, but she was still sleeping off last night's alcohol. There was no waking her. Giving up and knowing his friends waited for him outside, he blushed her sweetly on the lips and whispered. "Goodbye, my heart."

The young man dressed in the sun's warm light hoping that Celine would wake suddenly and cast him one of her enchanting smiles. She never did.

**The outpouring** of regret that usually flows after a whore's first time should have came last night, but Felicity had been too intoxicated to feel it. Now that the sun beckoned and the morning birds cried for the world below to wake, she suffered it immensely. She was still cradled sensually against the width of Athos' chest, naked with dry semen littering her thighs. Every muscle in her bruised and her insides felt as if she had been excavated.

"I have fallen from grace now." She muttered, not knowing if Athos was awake or not, and it really didn't matter, she was talking to herself anyway.

Athos kissed her on her head and said ,"You have not fell, but risen", before standing to dress.

She did not agree with his cocky analysis, but it was useless to voice so. She watched him dress without even a glance in her direction. She was once again that insignificant child from last night.

"Will I see you again?" She could not help herself. It hurt. Just last night she had been intimate to him. How could two people brand so closely and just go their separate way the next day without an emotional soul tie?

He looked her straight in the eyes and said, "No." He reached into his pocket and pulled out some gold coins. "This is for your Matron."

Suffocating tears welled in her throat and eyes. She should not cry. She had been warned. She knew what to expect. She was nothing but a whore. Something precious in the night, but meaningless by dawn.

"And this is for you." He handed her a key.

She fondled the key, puzzled.

"Take your family to Orleans, by the bend of the river you will find a château. I will make sure the proper documents are filed to transfer ownership to you. There are enough tenants working the land to provide you income and a well-trained physician nearby to care for you mother." He said caressing the tears from her cheeks.

Her mouth dropped. The tears dried. She peered at him for a time to see if this was a cruel joke. When his face did not break, she flung her arms around him. "Athos! I can't believe your generosity!" She kissed him on the cheek over and over frantically. "Thank you!" He chuckled and she pulled away with a smile. "Why are you doing is for me?"

"Sometimes I like to play the hero." He winked at her.

"Why will you not bless me with visits?"

"Because you deserve more. I don't want to love. And you are too easy to love." He kissed her as a man would a lover, then stood and put on his hat. "Farewell, lamb."

"Good tidings will come your way, Athos. I am sure of it." She said placing her hand over her heart.

Athos touched his heart, held her gaze a few silent seconds, and then walked out of her life for good knowing that she was going find happiness.

**On the hillside,** the Musketeers awaited on horseback for Athos to join them.

"How was the little virgin?" Aramis asked with a naughty twinkle in his eyes.

"How did you know?" Athos asked.

"The whole place heard her! One minute whining, the next sobbing with ecstasy. ""Oh, Athos!"" It seems you made her one happy whore." Porthos joked.

Athos smirked. "Felicity is not a whore and I did indeed make her very happy."

The noble Musketeers rode back to their lives of protecting the King of France. _The End._

**_Notes:_**

**_Thank to everyone who read my little smutty story._**


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